The Clifton clarion., 1887-01-26
Tho ye, Musical Critic.

Tho new musical critic of the CraRbsrry Cla'ion was great card. Nobody who gazed upon his gossa- mei' limbs, his spectacled orbs, or . the air line crease which divided the hyacinthc locks into oqua sections on either side of his bulging brow, could doItt this for an instant. The Ihsnaging editor, an earthly creature, however, had his doubts about the ethereal young man, but as the music critic had come well recom- mended, tho managing editor stiaed his doubts, and showed the young man to his des,-. The first job the young man was given was to do tho opera on the opening night. He sallled forth in evening dress with | full score under his arm, and his ear balging with meloiious anticipations. Returning, and having finished his cr.tique, he took it to the managing editor, who bade him sit down and reNd the stuff aloud. The young mans soul Was terribly shocked that his splendid composition should be called "stuif." However. he began with as good grace as he could under the circumstances, as follows: 'The tInetul sweetness Cf the maestro's chet-d-TlrTe was never interpreted with more engaging esprit de corps than by the artists in this melodious aggregation. The chromatic tints were laid on with q prodigality oi fervo- that sublimated the appoggia- tura and apotheosized the contrapun- tai tone-waves-"
 Hold up" exclaimed the manag- ing editor. "What do you mean by all that?"
 "Meanw calculated the musical critic. "How do you suppose I know? I've done work for the great dalics, and nobody ever asked what meant. Shall go on?"
 The managing editor nodded, and the young man proceeded, land apothcosized the contrapuntal tore waves with dynamic expulsion. Signora Screechowl, the primest prima donna, was in her best voice, improved as it was by slightly catarrhal shading, which eradicated those incisive murmurs which tickle only the ears of the amateur lover of the warbling muse. Her embonpoint was grandly effective, and no words can hope to depict the cataclysmic effort of her dolce fdr niente in the bravura passage in the seventh bar"
 II can't make it out bit," sadly murmured the managing editor; "but as you have worked on the great daies I suppose it's all right"
 The young man said, "Yes," and went on, "Signor Macaroni, the tenor assoiuta, attacked with consummate aplomb, advanced in column by division, closed in mass, and carried the work of the great maestro by an adroit movement in echelon."
 Was there a battle-scene in tho opera?" innocently asked the man. aging editor.
 "Battle-scene exclaimed the young man contemptuously. "No, ST, no battle or other than the force ful conflict of lyrical acous;ics.''
 "ah!" said the managing editor, "I understand. Proceed"
 "But the climax of mellifluous grandure was attained when Ndlle. Lotoni, the rltracontralto, entered the lists. The coolish freshness of her tuneful tongue was something astounding in its castadivan effects. The chiaroscuro of her andante- adagio was complemented perfectly by the middle distance of her ada g;o- andantc, and tie two achieve monts together coruscated through the house with all the grace and witchery of the gemini of astronomi- cal familiarity"
 "I guess that will do," said the managing editor. II don't care to hear any more tonight. I'm not feeling very well, and few mOre lines might send me into q brain fever. Your critiqus is q splendid one-the best by far 1 ever heard, of the kind. ."-IEXchange.